This Is Not A Love Story

Chapter One Typical Mornings

     Touring is only fun for the first month or so, but after that you start to lose sleep and miss the comfort of your own bed.

     I'm terribly exhausted. I don't feel like getting out of bed. I would willingly miss my flight for an extra fifteen minutes of sleep, but by contract I cannot do that.

     There is a girl beside me. I do not know her name, nor do I remember her at all. To me she is just a bed headed mistake.

     I shut off my Marimba-ringing alarm and woke the girl beside me.

     "You have to go now darling." I stood up out of the hotel bed. She did not wake. "Hello?" I bent down to her and ran my fingers through her hair, it was in knots. This time she woke up, sitting up right. I stood straight again. Her black mascara had rubbed off of her face and was stained on the pillow. Her eye liner was smeared across her face. As much of a disaster as she looked I was sure she was something great, otherwise, why would a drunken me sleep with an ugly woman?

     She stretched her arms, making a cracking sound from her back. I cringed at the sound as I dressed into last night's attire. She stood up, her naked body instantly consumed with goosebumps from the cold winter air drifting through the room. She picked up her clothing and dressed into them as I packed my things into the one suitcase I always brought on tours. There's not much to bring with me. I remembered my first tour, I had packed almost twenty cases of clothes with me, which had been nothing but a burden to carry from place to place. The second time around I had learned to pack lightly, packing only what I would desperately need. This time I brought only my phone necessities, underwear, and my journal. Clothes were given to me by my designers, so bringing my own was not a requirement.

     I slung my bag on to my shoulder and turned to the girl. "Do you have a car, or would you like me to call a cab?"

     She shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair, tugging through the knots. "Uh, I have a car." She replied as if her throat was full of flem and she was still half asleep.

     I nodded my head and brushed my hair with my fingers. My flight was landing in about an hour or so; I had to leave. "Well, I enjoyed your company last night." This was always the awkward part. I never knew what to say in the mornings. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, pulling away shortly after "I have to get going. The room service will probably be here soon. The room checks out at noon so you could stay here for the next few hours or so. Good luck to you." With saying that I headed out the door and made my way out the lobby.

     Fans crowded around as I walked out of the front doors. I put on some kind of smile that didn't feel all that natural. The group of about twenty girls, ages ranging from about twelve to twenty or so, grew to be over a hundred more. I signed as many items as I could and took some pictures before I made it to my taxi. I got in and shut the door with a sigh of relief.

     The airport was no different from the outside of the hotel, in fact it might have been worse. The fans followed me in to my gate, through security checks and baggage drop-off. The crowd grew bigger and bigger and the shouts of my names and pleads to stop grew louder. I was too tired for this, I ignored them the best I could and kept walking forward to my flight gate. I met up with the others, finally saved by security guards and alone at last.

     The others looked just as exhausted as me, so I wasn't expecting any warm welcomes from any of them. Zayn was sat in one of the seats with every bit of his attention toward his phone. My guess was that he was texting his fiancee who he hasn't seen since the start of the tour. Liam was struggling to stay awake, fighting his drooping lids from falling shut. He was standing to keep awake, but it wasn't doing much help. Niall was zoning out towards the wall as his phone was charging. The bags under his eyes and his messy morning hair brought me to the conclusion that he had had the same night as me. Louis sat beside Zayn, as he toyed around on his phone. Not one of them said a word to me, but like I said, it wasn't like I was expecting anything different. All five of us were terribly tired and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. Not one of us felt like dealing with crazed girls at five in the morning.

     The Sun had not even risen yet, the moon was low in the dark blue sky and the stars were still dimly shining. We could faintly hear the cheers and shouts of the loud crowd of girls back in the other part of the airport. They were the only thing keeping us up, if not for them we would all be asleep in the awkward, uncomfortable chairs, if not for them I would be in Homeschapel Cheshire, at my own home, in my own bed sleeping for another two hours before school. I would be in college right now, I'd be enjoying the frat-life with friends I grew up knowing, not ones I was forced to be friendly with. I'm not, in any way, saying that I do not like any of my band mates. They are all very nice, funny guys, but they are their own person and not one of them are like me.

     The only person who I could probably relate myself to would be Louis. Louis and I were good friends in the beginning of all of this, we were very close and hung out a lot of the time. We aren't like that anymore though, not after fans started to 'ship' us as a gay couple. Now we are too scared to hang out with each other, I get nervous even if we are just talking. Louis got very defensive when the 'shipping' got out of hand. Louis has a girlfriend, Eleanor who is a very lovely girl, and he went far enough as to swear at our fans through his twitter account. Management had us promise not to swear on our twitter accounts if we wanted to have control of our own personals. Louis had gotten into a lot of trouble for that and was forced to delete the tweets. Of course that didn't stop the 'Larry Stylinson' rumors, a lot of it is still around today.

     As the plane landed, we gathered our carry-ons and filed onto the plane with other passengers. I could catch up on some sleep on this eleven hour and fifty minute flight to Los Angeles. The first four months of our tour were over, our last stretch of shows were in North American. Just twenty-seven shows left and we are done.

     I can't wait to go home.